CHAPTER VII
THE END
The day had been passed delightfully, hunting in the forests at the bases of Cheviot Hill and Yeavering Bell. The royal party had assembled at a trysting–place for an early supper, and was now riding home to Adgefrin. Edwin looked splendid in his hunting–dress, with his golden locks falling from a light cap, and his fair beard resting on the darker leathern coat. He was superbly mounted, and in one hand he held a hunting–horn. His eyes brightened with pride as he glanced at his gallant young sons, Offrid and Eadfrid. Close behind him rode Osric and his young son Oswin. Then followed Coelred, Porlor, and Godric, with Froda and other faithful retainers bringing up the rear. Alas! it was the good King's last hour of pleasure. The joyous laughter of the young Athelings rang through the glades as the cavalcade reached home.
Sivel was at the gate, his face full of anxiety, his horse covered with foam and ready to drop. He brought certain news that Penda, the King of Mercia, was marching across the country of the Gainas with a large army, and had given a defiant answer to a messenger who had been sent to ask the cause of his invasion. In a few days he would be on the Don. Cadwalla was known to have an equally large force in motion, and Bassus was sending out scouts to ascertain his position day by day. He had also summoned the Deiran tribes to meet at York.
Edwin sorrowfully remembered the timely warning of his faithful general. Fresh horses were ordered, and the King set out at once, accompanied by the four paladins and his two sons. Osric undertook to guard the Queen, Paulinus, and the children, and to escort them as quickly as possible to Aldby. The King reached York in the first week of October 633. Still worse news awaited him. Cadwalla, with an immense army, had crossed the moors from Chester, and was marching rapidly with the apparent object of forming a junction with Penda. In a hurried consultation Bassus pointed out that every hour was of moment, as the only hope was in engaging the two armies in detail, before they were in touch of each other. But the Northumbrian force was very small, and there was no time to wait for reinforcements. Bassus wished to attend on the King's person, but Edwin insisted that he must remain at York. "If anything happens to me," he said, "who is to guard my wife and children, who is to save the kingdom if you fall by my side?" Bassus reluctantly yielded. He was to strive to form a second army at York, and guard the Queen.
Edwin left York with a small but valiant force, commanded by himself in person, Coelred, Porlor, Godric, Sivel, the two Athelings, and the principal thegns of Deira. He felt confident that he could dispose of Penda if he could engage him before the arrival of Cadwalla. All depended upon that. At the ford of Nehalennia loyal old Saebald joined the King with his Billingas. But news also came that Cadwalla was already advancing down the valley of the Calder. Edwin increased the rapidity of his marches to the Don.
Hatfield Chase was a vast extent of lake and morass on the lower course of the Don, overgrown with reeds and other water plants, and dotted with islands covered with trees and frequented by deer in great numbers. Penda led his army across this labyrinth, from island to island, wading and sometimes swimming. He had just escaped from his difficulties and drawn up the forces of Mercia on the firm land, when the well–marshalled army of Edwin came in sight. They passed the night facing each other, with the camp fires of both sides visible, and next morning they joined battle.
Edwin rose at dawn and called his chiefs around him. "We must beat the Mercians," he said, "before our other enemies arrive, or we are lost. It is in the hands of God. If it is His will I will die on this field fighting for the right. But keep the men in good heart. Friends and brothers, never in the world's history had king such faithful servants! Living or dying, our hopes, our aims, are one. True and loyal friends, we stand or fall together." He embraced his sons, his four surviving paladins, and the venerable Saebald, whose hair was now white with age. He was seventy–three. They then all knelt down and received the sacrament from James the Deacon, who offered up prayers for the good men and true who were to fight that day in a righteous cause. It was the morning of the 14th of October 633.
Edwin's army was in three divisions. He entrusted the right to Godric and Saebald, with his son Offrid. Porlor and Eadfrid commanded the left. The King and Coelred were in the centre. Sivel was well mounted, and undertook to bring news to the King from the two wings and to carry orders. The whole line advanced bravely to the attack, the numbers of the two armies being about equal, but Penda had his back to the swamps. Both sides fought most valiantly. At last the Mercians began to give way. Porlor had actually driven a large body into the swamps. The day appeared to be won. At this critical moment Sivel galloped up to report that the Welshmen under Cadwalla were in sight, and rushing down upon the rear of the English right flank in overwhelming numbers. Edwin was obliged to order two–thirds of his force, under Godric and Saebald, to face round and advance to meet the Welsh. Before leaving with these orders, Coelred called Sivel aside, and entreated him, by their sacred friendship, to save his life. "One of us must survive," he said. "The safety of the widows and children will be in your keeping. My Sivel, you must live on." They pressed each other's hands, and Sivel galloped off with his orders.
Penda now saw that the force opposed to him was so weakened that it was less than half his own strength. He rallied his men, and a terrible slaughter commenced. The Deirans fell where they stood. None fled. There was not a man who was not ready to die for his beloved King. Porlor had closed up from the left, and the brothers were now fighting by the side of Edwin. At this moment Froda arrived with the appalling news that Godric, Saebald and his sons, and Offrid had all been slain, and that the right wing was falling back, overwhelmed by numbers. "Froda, my true friend," said Coelred, "go at speed to the Humber bank, where you will find one of my boats. Hurry to Hemingborough and to Stillingfleet. Tell the ladies to fly with the children to Driffield in the Wolds. Then speed to York and announce the tidings to Bassus that all is lost. Remember that, when we are dead, Froda the son of Tanwin is chief of the Stillingas." The young man knelt down, kissed the hands of the King, of Coelred, and Porlor, then galloped off in the direction of the Humber.
The very thick of the fight now centred round the King and his two paladins. Their brave men had fallen in heaps. Not one yielded an inch of ground. Edwin retreated fighting until he had a bank about six feet high, covered with tangled briers, at his back. Here he made his last stand. He wielded his sword like a true Viking, but at length a spear–thrust dealt him a mortal wound. He fell. Coelred and Porlor now stood over the body of their King—their backs to the bank, and half surrounded by the foe. It was not the Berserker rage that flashed from their eyes, yet something as terrible. It was the righteous wrath of brave men who foresee the ruin of a great cause. Their blows were dealt with deadly force and with deadly skill. Before the death–dealing strokes their assailants recoiled and paused more than once. In such moments the brothers clasped hands and exchanged a few words. Then again their swords flashed right and left with lightning speed, dealing death around. Penda himself had been carried away, sorely wounded. There was a semicircle of Mercian dead round the hero brothers, as they protected the body of their King. Another pause. "The Valkyrie have chosen us at last, my Porlor," said Coelred. "They are carrying us away." "To Christ," continued Porlor. Then they both quoted the words of Alca spoken long ago when they were little boys. "We fall in battle, fighting in a righteous cause." These were their last words. There were loud yells and shouts, and an irresistible rush of spearmen, for no sword could touch them. They both fell dead across the body of the King, which they had defended so long and so valiantly. Their hands were clasped, their faces turned to heaven. The battle swept away in another direction, and there was silence. Brambles and ivy and the straggling branch of an overhanging yew tree, through which the sunbeams found their way in flickering light, shaded the mortal remains of three heroes, three among the chief makers of England.
KING EDWIN, COELRED, AND PORLOR SLAIN
"All is lost!" Froda had realised the fears of Bassus. No hope. Few men had come to his standard. The time was too short. There was no choice for the Queen but immediate flight. The three widows at Hemingborough and Stillingfleet had escaped, with the children, to the fortified post of Driffield on the Wolds. Bassus hastily got one of Coelred's finest vessels ready, and the Queen, with the three children, Eanflaed, Wuscfrea, and Iffi, came from Aldby. Paulinus was at York, and said that he would accompany the Queen to Kent. "Are you not Bishop of York?" said Bassus with surprise. "Is not your duty here? The Queen is safe with me." "My duty is to accompany the Queen," replied York's first bishop, who wanted a safer see. "Coward!" muttered Bassus. "He deserts at the first hint of danger, like the monks sent by Gregory, like Mellitus and Justus when they ran away from Canterbury." Unknown to Bassus, Edwin's golden chalice and cross belonging to the church at York were appropriated by Paulinus, who wished to make his appearance in Kent more acceptable by the presentation of these treasures. Cadwalla would scarcely have perpetrated such an act as this. So Ethelburga and her children, and her timid bishop, sailed for Kent under the protection of Bassus.
They arrived safely in Kent, where Ethelburga was affectionately received by her brother King Eadbald, and she brought up her daughter Eanflaed at Canterbury. But she could not feel that the boys were safe while they remained in England. She persuaded Bassus to take Wuscfrea and Iffi to Paris, and to put them under the protection of her cousin King Dagobert. They both died in infancy, and were buried with the honours due to royal children, it is believed at St. Denis. Bassus is supposed to have then returned to his native country, and to have died at Rome full of years, fondly cherishing to the last the memory of his beloved friend Lilla.
The saddest thing of all was the fate of Edwin's two brave young sons. The body of Offrid was never found. Eadfrid was taken prisoner, and shortly afterwards was basely murdered by his cousin Penda.
In the second night after the battle three lights might have been seen flickering over the ghastly field. One came from a lantern held by Wiglaf, Godric's man, who was searching for the body of his master, accompanied by the two sons of that valiant paladin. They found it, and carried it to his home, where it was buried amidst fruit trees, on the site on which afterwards rose the church of East Markham. The other two lights were carried by Sivel and the Deacon James. They found the precious remains lying as they fell under the yew tree. Long they gazed on those peerless forms. "When will God send us their equals?" sighed Sivel. "It must be long, alas!" assented the good Deacon. "Perhaps in His own good time men like them may arise again." The three bodies were borne away to the Humber by many loving hands, and placed in a boat. Proceeding up the Ouse, the boat was met opposite to Acaster by Froda and a few surviving Stillingas. The bodies of Coelred and Porlor were handed over to them, and were borne slowly to Stillingfleet, where they were interred by the side of Shuprak on the spot they had loved so well. The Deacon James performed the funeral service, and afterwards a tumulus was raised over their grave. Sivel then went to York with the body of the King. Bassus and Ethelburga had already departed. The head of Edwin the Great was interred under the porch of his unfinished church. His body was borne to Aldby, and buried by the side of his sister Alca. Long afterwards it was removed to Whitby by his grand–daughter the Abbess Elflaed.
The work of Edwin and his paladins seemed to be all undone. But it was not so. The good seed was sown. Northumbria flourished wonderfully for nearly a century through the initiative given to progress by Edwin's brilliant administration, and her Kings were Bretwaldas of Britain. A great calamity swept over the land, a storm beat down the ripening grains, but they rose again, bright and golden, and the sowers had not lived in vain.
Through labour to rest,
Through combat to victory.
Thomas à Kempis.